


Here At A Wedding That's Not Ours

by instrumentals



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Mentions of Sex, Narry - Freeform, Pining, Weddings, narry storan - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-07 00:04:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4241751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/instrumentals/pseuds/instrumentals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Standing less than twenty feet away from Harry is his ex-boyfriend, the one who said many things that make Harry's head hurt.</p><p>"What are you doing here?" Harry asks and okay, good, his voice is calm, he doesn't sound like he wants to scream and run out of the room as fast as he can.</p><p>Niall shrugs, his eyebrows raising slightly in amusement and Harry wishes he'd take his sunglasses off. "Gems invited me."</p><p>--</p><p>Or the one in which Niall wants Harry and Harry doesn't know what he wants anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here At A Wedding That's Not Ours

**Author's Note:**

> inspiration from [this tumblr post](http://sunshine-lou.tumblr.com/post/118643143881/spankingkink-x-harry-helping-set-up-for). (originally a larry post but i swing the narry way).

At this point, Harry's seriously reconsidering his life choices. He decides that he hates Gemma—no, wait, scratch that. He decides that he hates how much he loves Gemma. If he's entirely honest with himself, he'd have done it for anyone who asked, but especially Gemma because she's his sister and his best friend.

He really wishes he hadn't agreed to help plan her wedding.

When she had first asked him, Harry had been ecstatic. He loved weddings and dancing and, naturally, Gemma. But now, when it's the last rehearsal dinner before the wedding tomorrow and they're already five minutes behind and nothing is ready, Harry regrets being nice to his sister.

"This is all wrong!" Harry says exasperatedly, fixing the table setting. "The salad fork goes on the left of the dinner fork. They use the salad fork first and work their way in!"

Harry's busy rearranging the table settings and shooing the worker off to another table when a voice speaks from behind him. "Still a perfectionist, just like before." Harry whirls around at the familiar voice, and fuck, this is exactly what he doesn't need right now.

Standing less than twenty feet away from Harry is his ex-boyfriend, the one who said "I don't think we should do this anymore" and "I'm really sorry it came to this" and "I never meant to hurt you" and other things that make Harry's head hurt. Seeing him there makes Harry's breath catch in his throat but he has to remind himself to take deep breaths and not to let Niall see how much he still cares, how much he always will care.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asks and okay, good, his voice is calm, he doesn't sound like he wants to scream and run out of the room as fast as he can.

Niall shrugs, his eyebrows raising slightly in amusement and Harry wishes he'd take his sunglasses off. "Gems invited me." Harry tries not to startle too obviously at that-he hadn't realized that Niall and Gemma stayed in touch after they broke up. He supposes it makes sense: Niall and Gemma had always gotten along well, much to Harry's pleasure.

"Oh. Right."

They stand in awkward silence for a few moments before Harry turns around to fumble with the place settings again. His heart is racing and his mind is screaming _NiallNiallNiall_ and it's taking him everything not to face Niall again. Harry thinks that any challenge he's faced before has never been as difficult as his struggle to not rush into Niall's arms and kiss the life out of him.

It takes all of Harry's willpower not to turn around again and when he finally does and sees that Niall's gone, he doesn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

***

"Why didn't you tell me you invited him?" Harry demands as soon as Gemma steps through the door. She's sleeping at his place tonight because of the traditional no-face-to-face-contact-before-the-wedding-day superstition. Her fiancé's staying at the hotel where the reception is, which also makes it easier to oversee everything.

"Because I knew how you would react!" Gemma retorts, throwing her coat over the back of Harry's couch. He picks it up immediately afterwards and hangs it on the coat rack by the door. When he gets into the kitchen, Gemma's shuffling around, banging cupboards and clinking cups and setting the kettle on the stove. It's so weird to think that in a little over twenty-four hours, Gemma's going to be married and in a jet off to Italy for her honeymoon. And of course, the thought of marriage brings back the thought of Niall, and Harry goes back to what they were talking about before.

"And how is that?"

"Exactly like this," Gemma says, emphasizing her point by setting down the two mugs she had taken out on the wooden counter a little too harshly. Harry winces and Gemma sighs, her shoulders visibly relaxing from where Harry can see whilst sitting at the kitchen island. "Sorry," she mumbles. "It's just...Harry, honestly, you need to move on."

"I have moved on," Harry answers defensively, shrinking back a little when Gemma gives him a glare.

"I'm sorry but going on four dates with someone you were never even _remotely_ interested in romantically does not count as moving on."

Harry whines and Gemma shoves him lightly as she comes to sit at the island too, pushing one mug of cocoa over to Harry and keeping one for herself. Her voice takes on a softer, more serious tone, which Harry recognizes as her caring, protective, older sister one. Granted, he doesn't hear it that often anymore but he's taking all that he can get out of these last hours with Gemma before she's fully settled.

"I just thought that, you know, maybe if you saw him, it'd help you finally get over him completely. Facing your fears and all that."

"Yeah, well, that backfired," Harry mumbles, staring into his mug. Gemma makes a sympathetic noise and reaches out, squeezing Harry's shoulder gently. It's quiet between them for a moment, a nice, content silence. But then Gemma stands, draining the rest of her cocoa and makes a move towards Harry's guest bedroom.

"You better go get some sleep. It's my wedding day tomorrow and I will not have you acting like a cranky asshole the entire time because you didn't get your beauty sleep."

Harry grumbles but chugs the rest of his drink too, following Gemma down the hall and turning into his own bedroom after bidding her goodnight.

***

Harry leaves his apartment, which had been taken over by makeup kits and hairstyling tools and women at seven o'clock in the morning, and takes his suit with him. He decides to head down to the hotel and double check everything, just for himself, because he knows that Gemma's fiancé wouldn't have left anything up to chance. But still. It's just how Harry is.

And yeah, okay, maybe Harry had managed to snag Niall's hotel info out of Gemma before he had left this morning and, conveniently, Niall was staying in the same hotel where the reception was taking place. He takes a deep breath, standing in front of Niall's hotel room. He feels stupid, pathetic, because after all this time, he still has feelings for Niall and has hopes of them getting back together? Harry knows it's a possibility, has a clip playing on repeat in his mind of Niall saying, "I still love you. I will always love you. I just can't do the relationship right now." He knows that a lot of times, things don't work out the way he wants them to, but hopes that maybe just this once, everything will go right.

Harry stands there for some time, overthinking, before he finally turns away from the door, making his way towards the elevator. He feels a little relieved that Niall hadn't suddenly appeared in the midst of his mental soliloquy, because that would have been embarrassing. But still, fate has a funny way of working out, and just as the elevator doors start to shut, Harry catches sight of Niall's door opening and him stepping out, dressed handsomely in a black suit. Then the doors fully shut and Harry's left in the elevator alone with his breath caught in his throat.

And it sucks because Niall isn't his and he isn't Niall's and he can't just press kisses to Niall's skin anymore. Harry can't slip a hand over Niall's knee under the table or softly whine into Niall's ear about them going back to their room, alone, where Niall would press Harry into the mattress, fucking him while the alcohol slowly stopped clouding their minds and they were left drunk on each other as the night dragged on.

Harry knows that he no longer has a right to come in contact with Niall and that he can't just mindlessly show affection because he's not in a position to anymore. And, fuck, Harry thought that seeing Niall and knowing that they weren't together, the pain of it, would help Harry realize he needs to move on, but all it's doing is drawing him in deeper and making him pine for Niall more than he did before.

Harry sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he exits the elevator. He straightens out his tie—for changing in the backseat of his car, he hadn't done too badly—and heads for the hotel bar, wanting to get at least half of a beer in his body before he attended to anything that had to do with Gemma's wedding.

***

The wedding ceremony had been beautiful. Tears were shed, kisses were exchanged, and hugs were given out all around. Harry had, to no surprise, let out some tears as well, but Gemma was his sister and seeing her on what was the happiest day of her life, he was glad to be a part of it.

Then came the reception, and Harry could finally, finally rest his feet and take his first relaxed breath in months. It didn't last long though, because Harry was roped into dancing with Gemma and his many cousins and his cousin's children and many other relatives until they just blurred together like two paints mixing. Harry was able to get in a couple shots of alcohol in between dances until finally, almost two hours later, he's given a break.

Harry is sitting alone at the wedding party table up at the front of the ballroom, observing the family and friends there for Gemma and her new husband. He feels a presence sit down next to him moments later and looks over to see his mother beside him. She gives him a smile, shuffling her chair so she's closer to him. She takes his hand and holds it in hers, squeezing gently.

"You did a wonderful job with Gems' wedding. It's beautiful."

Harry flashes a grateful smile down at Anne, knowing that she had fallen victim to a couple of his stress-induced tantrums. Anne had been there to step in more than a few times and help out with anything, having a few contacts still lying around from her wedding with Robin. Now, she leans her head on Harry's shoulder, both of them watching couples and children dance to the music booming through the speakers.

"And how are you feeling, my love? I know seeing Niall must be hard for you."

And it's so like Anne to know every bit of Harry, her motherly instinct naturally kicking in and making her look out for her youngest, that it makes Harry want to cry. He had hoped he had been hiding it well enough, but he also knows that he can't hide things from his mother. If he's being honest, it had been hurting like hell to see Niall and not be able to do anything like he used to. He wishes he could scream from how much it's killing him to be in the same room as Niall and know that he had a different place than mere months ago.

"I don't know," Harry admits, withdrawing his hand and shifting his body to see Anne better. "I thought I was over him, at least a little bit, but seeing him yesterday and tonight..." Harry sighs, downing the rest of his coke and rum. "It's hard seeing him again. I want to talk to him but at the same time I'm scared to see what'll happen."

Anne hums lightly, bringing her hand up to run through Harry's hair comfortingly. "Well, sweetie, I don't want to force you to do anything you don't want to, but I think it might be worth something to talk a bit, hmm? At least clear a little bit of the tension. I know you two left things unsaid."

Harry doesn't say anything, just stares down at the table, and Anne leans forward, pressing a kiss to his temple. "Don't be too down tonight, okay? Enjoy yourself; you deserve it."

Harry nods, giving Anne a small smile. "Thanks, Mum."

"Anytime, love." She heads off to find Robin at the bar and Harry's left alone once again.

Harry decides to talk to a few of Gemma's old friends, try and get his mind off of Niall, but the plan backfires (much to Harry's chagrin). Almost everyone he talks to has boyfriends or girlfriends, husbands or wives, and some of them even have kids of their own. It just reminds Harry that his ex—who he still has goddamn feelings for—is there, in the same room, probably talking to the same people. Harry finally decides to take (another) break and grab a seat at the bar and order himself a beer. At this point, Harry's got a good amount of alcohol in his body, enough that he feels a minor buzz coming on.

There's a tap on his shoulder and when he turns, Niall's standing there, hands in his pockets, offering Harry a smile that's somewhere between shy and sheepish. "Hey."

Harry swallows the lump in his throat and manages to get out, "Hi."

"Care to dance?" Niall extends a hand, tilting his head towards the dance floor, and Harry thinks _no, this isn't a good idea, it's not going to end well_ but he's buzzed and that tends to make him a little looser than usual. He nods, chugging down the rest of his beer and taking Niall's hand, trying not to panic. Niall leads him to the dance floor and places his hands on Harry's shoulders, keeping them a good distance apart.

It hits Harry that Niall's being cautious with him, trying not to overstep any possible boundaries. That even after all this time, Niall still cares enough to make sure Harry's comfortable with whatever's happening between them. Harry wants nothing more than to feel Niall's body against his, and so he steps closer, moving his arms so they're strongly secured around Niall's waist. He nudges his face into Niall's shoulder, noticing the way Niall's body stiffens up before it relaxes. It's familiar, almost like nothing ever changed between them, and Harry remembers the height difference between them being greater but maybe it's just his mind playing tricks on him. They're just about the same height, maybe an inch or two off, but it's comfortable and Harry wants to kiss Niall.

He pulls his body away from Niall's slightly as he thinks this. Niall's looking at him in the spinning lights of the dance floor and Harry's breath is taken away. Harry lets out a little breath and leans in, keeping his eyes open and watching Niall to make sure this is what he wants too. Niall's eyes flicker to Harry's lips and his glance encourages Harry but just before their lips can touch, Niall leans back and turns his face away.

Harry stops, staring at Niall, wide-eyed at the edge of the dance floor. "Um." Niall is stammering over his words now, and his hands drop from Harry's shoulders, but they stop at Harry's chest. His fingers are curled into slight fists, right where Harry's swallow tattoos are, where Niall had left bite marks countless times, teasing Harry because his bites prevented Harry from wearing his shirts the way he liked. "I-I think—" He stops and licks his lips, thinking for a moment. "Maybe," he starts again, "maybe we should talk about some things first?"

And Harry would do anything Niall asked. He's so eager to make Niall happy that he agrees immediately, not thinking about what could happen during the conversation or what consequences could occur until it's too late and Harry's already being led to the garden by Niall.

They find a bench a little bit away from the ballroom, far enough that the music isn't blaring in their ears and they don't have to shout to talk to each other. Niall's less than six inches away from Harry, due to the small expanse of the bench, but the inches feels like miles. He doesn't know what to say-what is he supposed to say?-and only hopes that Niall will be the one to break the ice. And, like always, Niall delivers, but it's definitely not in the way Harry expected.

It happens so quick that Harry doesn't really have time to process it. One moment, his ex-boyfriend is sitting next to him on a cold bench, the next moment, his ex-boyfriend is straddling his lap and kissing his lips. Harry's so startled that he jerks back, breaking their contact. "I thought," Harry says and takes a moment to rearrange his thoughts. "I thought you wanted to talk about it."

"Yeah," Niall breathes out, "but I also want to kiss you."

It's not a good idea, Harry knows. But he also knows that he's got a fair amount of alcohol in him and the feeling of Niall's lips on his just now has made him exhilarated and he just needs to kiss Niall again and again, over and over until there's nothing left of him and everything is _NiallNiallNiall_. And so Harry thinks fuck it because either way it's going to hurt like hell tomorrow, whether he kisses Niall or not, and it's like-all in or nothing, that's how it's always been with Niall and Harry thinks that it's the way it always will be.

Niall's lips feel like bliss on Harry's and his fingers are running through Harry's hair and Harry doesn't even attempt to bite down the whimpers and soft groans of appreciation he's letting out. All he knows is that Niall's here and Niall's body is warm against his own and that if he shuts his mind out to everything but Niall's lips, it's as if nothing ever changed between them and this is just another instance where they have to sneak off because they can't keep their hands off of each other. It eases Harry's mind, allowing himself to slip off into previous times where things were easier and he could call Niall his without any hesitation.

But all good things come to an end and this was no exception. Harry slowly pulls away from Niall, both of them breathing hard from the intense kissing. Harry's hair is now tussled, giving clear evidence as to what he and Niall had been up to, but then again, Niall's not that far off either, his suit slightly bunched up from where Harry had been holding on to his hips and his lips a cherry red. Harry's still up so high from the adrenaline rush and having Niall there with him that he really doesn't want anything to ruin it, especially not a talk with Niall about their previous relationship and where they should now stand.

Instead, Harry opts for saying, "If you want to talk about it, come to mine tomorrow," and pressing a kiss on Niall's lips, one last kiss before he nudges Niall gently to get off of his lap. He gives no time for argument, smiling at Niall and slipping his fingers around Niall's wrist, leading him back into the ballroom.

Something's definitely changed between them and Harry feels more at ease than he had the entire night. He catches sight of Anne watching him and Niall come back in together and he sends her a sheepish smile. They make their way to the dance floor without a word, moving in tandem when they pull each other in and sway to the music. Dancing with Niall is something familiar, something Harry's used to, and it makes him feel at home to be doing it again. They dance together for a few songs before Niall's lips are pressed against Harry's ear and he softly says, "Shame, isn't it? Being at a wedding that's not ours?"

Harry jerks back from Niall, stares at him incredulously because _who the fuck does he think he is to pull something like that_ but Niall doesn't seem to have said it to hurt Harry, he seems genuine about his words, and his expression elicits something inside Harry that he can't explain. Harry's baffled, because the whole reason they broke up was because Niall didn't want a wedding or marriage, even though Harry wanted it more than anything, and why is Niall saying this now?

Harry's speechless and he makes a move to get away from Niall but he hears his name being called from the side of the dance floor. His eyes flit towards whoever called him, and it's his grandmother, beckoning him over now. Harry starts to walk towards her, leaving Niall behind because he just can't right now, but then his grandmother's shouting, "Bring your boyfriend too!" and the blood rushes to Harry's cheeks. He wants to yell at her that Niall's not his boyfriend, that they stopped being that a long time ago and after what Niall just said, Harry doesn't know if he wants Niall to be his boyfriend again, but he refrains and simple mumbles a "come on" at Niall, leading the way to his grandmother.

Niall fits in easily with Harry's family, falling into conversation with Harry's grandmother like she's his own. Harry stands to the side, watching Niall interact with his family, and it just makes the ache in his chest a hundred times stronger. His family accepted Niall so easily and without question when he had first been introduced to them as Harry's boyfriend, and Harry knew that had they married, Niall would have been accepted just as easily as Harry's husband.

Harry wants to marry Niall so, so badly but he also doesn't. It's the worst paradox of all time.

They go back to a table with two empty chairs and all Harry knows is that he wants to go home now. It's nearly one in the morning and people are still dancing and having fun but Harry wants nothing more than to go home and crawl into his bed and sleep. Niall attempts to make conversation with Harry but he doesn't say anything. All that's racing through his mind is Niall spending time with his family and him and Niall dancing and then Harry has a sudden flash of a silver ring in a black velvet box. Finally, Harry pushed back his chair and stands.

"I, um, I think I'm going to head home." Niall makes a move to reach for Harry, to say something, but Harry shakes his head. "I'll see you later."

Harry goes off to say his goodbyes to everyone, making sure to pull Gemma in for one last tight hug and a teasing "I love kids but don't give me nieces and nephews too early." When he hugs Anne, she whispers in his ear, "Everything will be alright, my love. Just wait."

When Harry gets home, his apartment seems empty and lifeless, such a contrast from what it had been less than twenty-four hours ago. He doesn't want to be there for a moment because suddenly everything is reminding him of Niall, especially because Niall used to live with him before everything ended. He goes to his bedroom and his eyes are drawn towards his drawer at the opposite wall. He wants to open it, even slips his fingers underneath the handle, but he stops himself, knows that he won't be able to get through it without breaking down at least once.

****

Harry is restless the next morning, nearly wringing his hair out with how anxious he is for Niall to come over. Harry rearranges his furniture, puts it back. He changes his clothes multiple times, even putting on a shirt that had been Niall's at one point. He has no idea when Niall's even going to come over, considering they never talked about that minor detail.

Harry resorts to sitting on the couch and trying to watch TV until the doorbell rings. When it finally does, Harry wipes his hands on his jeans and almost stumbles on his way to the door. He yanks it open and stops short at what he sees. Niall's got a beanie on his head, but it's not one of his. It's one of Harry's, a favorite of his, in fact. Harry clears his throat, because Niall's got his back turned towards the door and hasn't noticed Harry. Niall whirls around and offers Harry a shy smile. "Hi," he says, stepping forward.

"Hey." Harry gestures for Niall to come in. Niall seems awkward and tense, slowly spinning around to take in what used to be his place too.

They sit together at the kitchen island, both of them holding mugs of coffee between their hands. It's a horrible, uncomfortable silence between them, one that Harry hates more than anything. He knows that he's waiting on Niall to make the first move again, but he also knows that it's his turn now. That Niall's always the one who does anything in terms of important actions and that maybe, just this once, Harry's the one who needs to be the bigger person.

"Um," Harry begins, hesitating. "You...you brought up marriage."

The corners of Niall's mouth twitch upwards, the hint of a smile on his face before it's gone and he's clearing his throat. "Yeah. I did."

"Why?"

Niall freezes for a moment, clearly not anticipating Harry's question. But then his face relaxes and he takes a sip of his coffee. "Because I think we should get married."

One of the things Harry always loved about Niall was that he was spontaneous, extremely outgoing. Niall was the one who typically got Harry out of his shell, encouraged him to branch out more, be more interactive. Niall was the epitome of the phrase "live in the moment," and usually, Harry found it extremely endearing but now—this.

Harry's staring at Niall, the comical wide eyes and jaw slacked expression on his face. Niall's staring at Harry with an eyebrow raised questioningly, smug almost.

"You want to get married," Harry says, for clarification.

"Yeah."

A silence passes between them, a silence where Harry stares down at his coffee and tells himself not to explode, to hear what Niall has to say.

"Why now?" Harry says calmly, but then he continues, knowing that it's probably not going to end well. "Why not four months ago when it was what I wanted? What could have possibly happened in the last few weeks that made you change your mind? I spent time waiting for you, hoping you'd come back and agree to marry me. And now that I just started to accept that maybe even if you still love me you don't want to marry me, you come and you say this. What did you expect, for me to agree immediately and fall into your arms and start planning a wedding right away?

"That's not how the real world works, Niall. You don't get to leave me and then come back and expect me to fall into your arms, waiting on your every beck and call. You can't have me whenever you want just because you decided to think things through and come to your fucking senses. I'm a person, and I loved you, and I still do, but I'm not going to take you back. Not now."

Harry's voice cracks at the end of his monologue and he rubs his eyes. Niall is silent, they both are, and Harry can hear their rhythmic breathing in the silent kitchen. He glances up at Niall, only to find that Niall's staring back at him with an expression between sadness and disappointment.

"Okay," Niall finally says, his voice just above a whisper. "I'm sorry. I just wanted you to know how I felt about everything and that—that I do still love you and care about you. And I was wrong about it all. I was scared, because I've seen a lot of failed marriages, and I didn't want that to happen with us. I was so scared to lose you in case our marriage failed but I ended up losing you anyways." Niall takes a deep, shaky breath before swiping at his eyes quickly.

Harry slides off of his stool and moves to the one beside Niall. He takes Niall's hand in his, raising himself up on the stool. He leans down and presses his lips to Niall's shoulder, squeezing his hand gently. "I love you," Harry whispers, chin resting on Niall's shoulder. "But I need some time."

And Niall, thank God, Niall understands. He doesn't argue, just turns and kisses the top of Harry's head briefly. They sit there together, and for a moment, Harry thinks that it's like nothing's changed, even though everything has changed. It's something that brings Harry back to the way things were, except now, he and Niall have so much more to discuss, so much to talk about on their own. Harry would much rather prefer to stay there with Niall and sit there in content silence but he knows that he would just be avoiding his problems, which isn't healthy for him.

It's as if Niall's on the same page as Harry, just like before, because he lets out a small sigh, gently nudging Harry's head from his shoulder. "I should go," Niall says softly, taking his hand away from Harry's. He offers Harry a small smile and begins to make his way towards the door. Harry follows behind, seeing him out. When they reach the door, Niall turns to Harry and takes the beanie off. "This is yours."

Harry lets out a small laugh. "You can keep it."

Niall nods, offering Harry one last smile. "Call me when you're ready, okay?"

And Harry knows it's because this time, it's Niall that has to wait for Harry, not the other way around. It's Harry who has to think things through and figure out what he wants to do. Harry's the one who needs the space. Niall's told Harry what he wants, and now it's Harry's turn to decide if he wants the same and if it's all worth it, going back to Niall after months of pining and being hurt.

****

"I don't know what to do, Mum," Harry sighs, snuggling into Anne's side. She rests her cheek on top of his head, rubbing her hand up and down his arm comfortingly.

Harry plays with the silver rings on his fingers, spinning them as he thinks. It's been almost a week since he and Niall talked about the marriage and Harry's been trying his best to come up with a decision, but he just can't. He knows he wants to marry Niall, that much is certain, but he also can't stop thinking about what it will mean and what it will bring on. The roles are reversed now, and Harry finally understands why Niall had taken so long, had been so hesitant.

"I think that you still love him and he still loves you, sweetheart, and now that you both want the same thing, you should definitely go with it. The two of you have been so in love for a couple of years, and even after your breakup, I could see that you still were. And now he's back and waiting for you."

"I'm scared," Harry whispers, tilting his head back to look at his mother.

Anne hums knowingly and squeezes Harry tight. "I know you are, love. Marriage is a terrifying thing. But think about it this way, yeah? You made the suggestion first, and Niall was the one who was scared. You put everything out on the line and waited for him, and now he's doing it for you. You've gotta meet in the middle somehow. Whether it's you two getting married or not, you've just got to come to a compromise."

It's exactly what Harry's been thinking these past few days, what with the reversed roles and such. But there's also something else, something that he doesn't know how to explain. It's a big part of the reason why he doesn't want to say yes, to marry Niall immediately. Harry knows for certain what the other reason is, but he can't find the right words to say it.

****

"I don't think we should get married."

Harry avoids looking at Niall's eyes when he says the sentence, but as soon as he gets the words out, he's searching Niall's face to see his reaction.

Niall draws back, stumbling over his words. "Oh. Okay. I, um—" He makes a move to get off of Harry's bed and to leave, but Harry grabs his wrist, pulls him back to sit on the edge of the bed next to Harry.

"No, wait, I'm not done." Niall gives Harry a wondering look, seemingly confused. Harry continues, "I don't think we should get married right now. I had to be without you for four months and I don't think that I can just go straight from not being in a relationship with you to being married to you. I'm willing to get back together with you, but I guess I want to sort of take it slow?"

Harry's fiddling with the holes in his jeans, right at the knees, and doesn't notice the way Niall moves closer to him until he takes one of Harry's hands and interlocks their fingers.

"Harry. I'd love to do that. I fully understand what you want and why. I'm more than happy to go along with it. Anything for us to be together again." He leans forward and kisses Harry once before he bites his lip, thinking. "Um. But I was wondering, do you still have the ring?"

Harry raises an eyebrow at Niall but nevertheless stands to retrieve the box from his nightstand drawer. Of course he kept it. All those nights when he laid in bed, turning the ring over and over between his fingers, his little token of hope that Niall would come back. When he sits down next to Niall again, he extends the box, opening it to reveal the simple silver ring inside. While Harry watches, Niall takes the ring and pulls out a silver chain from his pocket. To Harry's surprise and wonder, Niall slips the ring onto the chain and then stands, walking over to the drawer where Harry keeps his rings. Niall rummages around the drawer for a few moments before he finally pulls one out, seemingly satisfied, and slides that one onto the necklace chain too.

Niall walks back over to Harry and gestures for him to take the necklace and clasp it around Niall's neck for him. Once Harry does, Niall turns to face Harry, tucking the necklace underneath his shirt. "Our secret," Niall whispers, grinning as he leans forward to press his lips to Harry's.

And as they stand there in Harry's bedroom kissing, Niall's arms around Harry's neck and Harry's hands on Niall's hips, Harry thinks that he's definitely going to marry Niall in the future. Hell, if things keep working out this well, he might even agree to marry Niall within this month. But Niall doesn't need to know that. They're happy where they are.


End file.
